Dawn Of A New Age
by JA Baker
Summary: A rift in the space-time continuum provides the Earth Alliance with the weapons it needs to defeat the Minbari at Battle of the Line, and the galaxy will never be the same again...
1. A Line In The Sand

_Decided that this deserves to be separated into its own story.  
__Bolo's were created by Keith Laumer.  
__Babylon 5 was created by J. Michael Straczynski.  
__I am neither of these two men._

**Dawn Of A New Age  
****Prologue: A Line In The Sand**

Colonel William Hague couldn't help but smile as he looked out of the thick window built into the side of pressurised dome and across the inhospitable Luna surface; the last few units were moving into their preassigned positions, vacuum-suited workers hurriedly covering them with a thick layer of dust to disguise their location.

After four long and bloody years, the war with the Minbari Federation had reached its end, with just a handful of outposts between the seemingly unstoppable juggernaut that was the Minbari war machine and the Sol system. What remained of the once proud Earth Force fleet had been recalled, massed in the home system for one last battle, a pyrrhic showdown that would hopefully buy enough time for a few hastily constructed colony ships to get away. The first three; _Botany Bay_, _Mayflower_ and _Savannah_ had already left under a cloak of utter secrecy, while other were being load with the best and brightest that the human race could provide. Each ship was headed out in a different direction away from Minbari space, their final destination left to each captain to decide to minimise the chance of the Minbari find them. The project had been codenamed _Operation Wildfire_, a seemingly apt pseudonym for a last grasp attempt to send humanity to the stars.

Hague had been offered command of the _Endeavour_, but had turned it down; if this was to be the twilight of life on Earth, then he wanted to be there at the end.

Then It had happened, the still unexplained event that had ripped open a gateway into hyperspace over a hundred kilometres across just inside the orbit of Mars. Through this portal had been flung a the once mighty starship _Leviathan_, now a burnt and twisted wreck. Her crew had been human, but none of them had survived the crossing from wherever she called home; some could only be identified as human based on DNA scans of their twisted remains. But what had survived had been the _Leviathan's_ cargo; the same cargo that was now hidden across the Luna surface.

Only a handful of people had been informed of this last, insane Hail Mary play that might just halt the relentless Minbari advance. Hague had been placed in charge of one detachment, and had listened with a sence of odd serenity as President Levy had called for any ship capable of fighting to join what everyone knew would be a suicide mission at best. The speech had been a necessary ruse in case the Minbari had sent scouts ahead to spy on what defences Earth had. It went without saying that there was nothing that Earth Force could put up against the relentless force of nature that was the Minbari fleet, but the past four years had taught the aliens to be wary a seemingly easy victory. Humanity had lost none of its resourcefulness or gift for deceit when it came to the waging of war, and more than one Minbari ship had met its demise to a cunningly placed nuke.

But _Operation Thor_ was different; there was no way that the Minbari could possibly see this one coming. Every last aspect had been the subject of the strictest security possible, with many who worked on it totally unaware of just what they were doing. One by one the row of light before Hague turned green as each unit reported its readiness over the carefully shielded hard lines. He flicked a master control, and the command bunker slipped below the Luna surface on powerful hydraulic jacks, a massive armour plate swinging into place above him. Another work crew quickly covered it with its own layer of camouflage.

"This is Tycho-base reporting in." Hague spoke into his radio as he turned his chair round until he faced his operations screen, "We are good to go."

"_Rodger, Tycho-base._" Luna Defence Command responded, "_Stand by; one of our fighter squadrons has reported a possible contact._"

Hague looked at the row of shining green lights and the single, glowing red button that would activate them. He felt the overwhelming desire to press it now, but he resisted, knowing that the entire plan was dependant on the element of surprise. Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, the radio crackled into life again.

"_This is Luna Defence Headquarters to all units: Ragnarök!_" The controller sounded harried, and Hague could hear the sound of explosions and people screaming in the background."_I say again;_ _Ragnarök_!"

"Tycho-base to all units: Case Ragnarök!" The Colonel's hand slammed down on the activation button, "Case Ragnarök!"

"_Tycho-base, this is Bolo_ Indefatigable _acknowledging._" A clipped English accent responded, "_Minbari sighted crossing Luna horizon; Tallyho chaps!_"

"_This is Bolo_ Khulov: _enemy targeted._" A warm and friendly sounding Russian voice came over another link, and a thin layer of dust fell down from the armour plated ceiling of Hague's bunker as the units under his command started to fire, "_For the Motherland!_"

"_This is Bolo_ US Seventh Corps." A new and excited sounding Midwestern voice called out, "_Like shooting fish in a barrel, boys!_"

"_Dieses ist Bolo_ Das Afrika Korps." A bombastic German tenor reported over what sounded like Wagner's _Ride of the Valkyries _played at full blast, "_Ich habe mich den Feind engagiert!_"

The darkness of space was light up as dozens of Hellbore's and Hellrail's fired as one, ripping into the guts of the Minbari fleet. Secondary weapons scoured the sky clear of Minbari fighters as each individual Bolo burst clear of their concealed fox-hole and began to move about the Luna surface seemingly at random. But each move was a carefully measured to maintain a interlocking field of offensive and defensive fire that coved most of Earth orbit. The Minbari had, in their arrogance, massed most of their forces near Luna, knowing that control of the planetoid gave control of near-Earth space. But they hadn't anticipated _Operation Thor_, and the full fury of the Dinochrome Brigade.

It was the dawn of a new age, the age of the Bolo, and the galaxy would never be the same again...

**The Beginning**


	2. Proving Ground

**Dawn Of A New Age  
Chapter 1: Proving Ground**

Captain John Sheridan looked at himself in the mirror as he shaved, cleaning the razor in the sink. As little as a year ago, he would never have believed he would ever be able to perform such a simple act on board a Earthforce starship floating in space at a dead stop. The bulky, complex machinery needed for centrifugal gravity was still considered an expensive and unnecessary luxury on warship, and the alien races that Earth had made contact with were unwilling to trade the technology needed to generate artificial gravity fields. Thus, human crews had to live in micro-gravity environmental for weeks at a time. But his new command, fresh from the builders yard, was something altogether different.

The EAS _Jericho_ looked like any other _Nova_ class Dreadnought, at least on the outside. She was, in more than one way, both the last and first of her kind. Already under construction when the Earth-Minbari war had ended suddenly and some would say unbelievable, in victory with success of _Operation Thor_, the _Jericho_ had been little more than a keel and basic superstructure when the Bureau of Ships had cancelled any further production of older designs. Now the war was won, they were free to finally make full and unrestricted use of the treasure-trove of new technology that they had recovered from the _Leviathan_ after it had breached the inter-dimensional barrier.

Picking the _Jericho_ as their test bed, they had upgraded the reactors and redesigned the weapons load to take advantage of the latest developments. All twenty two of her twin plasma-cannons had been replaced with 150cm Hellbore's, while her bow and stern mounted particle-beam guns had been sat aside in favour of Hellrail's, each one capable of blasting clean through a Minbari cruiser. Endurachrome armour, battle-screens, internal disruptor fields and improved interceptor grids added to her defences, while the computer systems had been upgraded to the very latest in psychotronic design. The main core itself was a near perfect copy of one of the Mark XXXIV Bolo's that had been found amid the wreckage of the _Leviathan_.

Thus, in a few short years, Human starship design had leaped ahead of any race in known space, aside from the whispered of First Ones, such as the mysterious Vorlon's who had at long last left their self-imposed isolation and had taken a great interest in the _Leviathan_ and her cargo. There was talk of secret deals, trading access to the Bolo's for even more advanced technology, but Sheridan dismissed it as idle gossip. All that mattered was that Earth now had the means to ensure that no one would ever threaten her people with extermination ever again. And if the days tests went as well as hoped, their place as key-players in the game of galactic politics was assured. Representatives from the Free Worlds league, the Narn Regime, the Centauri Republic, the Minbari Federation and even, if the scuttlebutt was to be believed, the Vorlon Empire, would be watching as the _Jericho_ was put through her paces at the proving grounds.

"_I'm sorry to bother you, Captain._" Jerry, the ship's A.I. sounded almost reproachful, "_But you asked me to let you know I received word as to just who we'd be facing in this exercise._"

"I take it that word has finally made its way down the grapevine?" Sheridan smiled as he washed the last few traces of shaving cream off of his face, "Who'd we get?"

"_Unit 6581-GLH of the Line, sir, otherwise known as_ Galahad." the Captains reflection vanished, to be replaced with a scrolling screen of text and photos of an impressive looking Bolo, "_He is an __older, Mark XXXIII Bolo, but he saw action along both the Deng and Melconian fronts in his home dimension, and was decorated several times for both his actions under fire and strategic planning._"

"Not an opponent to be taken lightly then?" Sheridan nodded to himself as he walked back into his bedroom and started to get dressed, "Good; I like a challenge."

"_A challenge, yes, but one I am sure I am up to meeting._" Jerry's voice was free of any hint of Ego; he was merely conveying the facts as he saw them, "Galahad _is a fine Bolo, and I would be honoured to go into battle alongside him, but he lacks the special programming I have been given to accommodate the fact that I am a Starship, intended for force-projection across interstellar distances._"

"Your game; your rules?" The Captain laughed as he pulled on his jacket, "Okay, I believe you. Put on a fresh pot of coffee would you? I'll be right up."

"_As you wish, sir._" Jerry responded, a chime indicating that, while he would be constantly monitoring in case his commander had any further questions, as far as he was concerned, the conversation was over.

"I think I'm going to like this job." Sheridan paused to kiss his fingers and press them against the photo of his fiancé that he kept beside his bed, then headed out of his quarters and into the corridor beyond.

Thanks to Jerry's presence and the number of automated systems he controlled, the _Jericho_ needed as much smaller crew than the original _Nova's_, and while this allowed for more personal space, it also left the ship with a decidedly empty feeling at times. Sheridan couldn't help but feel he was walking the decks of a ghost ship as he made the short journey to the heavily fortified command deck. The Marines on duty outside came to attention as he passed them with a salute, and centred the nerve centre of the starship.

"Captain on deck!" Commander Jeffrey Sinclair, his XO, announced, and the handful of officers and crew on duty snapped to attention.

"At ease." Sheridan nodded, "So, how we looking Jeff?"

"All primary a secondary weapons systems are on-line, as well as the active and passive defences." Sinclair reported, "We're laying at rest 200-km off of the _Bellerophon's_ port bow."

"Excellent." Sheridan rubbed his hands, "Inform General Lefcourt that we are ready to begin."

**

* * *

**

When most people imagine the asteroid belt between Mars and Jupiter, they picture a sea of spinning rocks, but the truth is a lot different and far less impressive. It is, in reality, just a name given to an area of space that may, billions of years ago, had been the orbital plane of a planet that had broken up while the solar system was still young. Whatever its origins, the asteroids it contained varied in size from grains of sand to planet-killers the size of a small country. The city-sized asteroid that the _Bellerophon_ and _Jericho_ sat in the shadow of was just one of a dozen similarly sized rocks within visual range, but it was home to the command station of Earthforce Fleet Proving Ground, a large area within the belt that had been set aside for testing new ships and systems.

The _Bellerophon_ was an ageing _Hyperion_ class Cruiser that had been bound for the breakers yard before the start of the Earth-Minbari war, and she had been pressed back into service as a patrol ship before being called in for the Battle of the Line, the last ditch-defence of Earth if _Operation Thor_ had failed. Now she served as a mobile command post for the proving ground, proving support for the newer, more powerful units starting to come off the assembly line. The cost of upgrading such an old ship had proven prohibited, but artificial gravity generators had been fitted to make life easer for the crew and any passengers.

General Robert Lefcourt could feel the first hints of a migraine starting as he made his way over to the observation window and looked out at the _Jericho_. The newly completed warship looked almost identical to any other Dreadnought in the fleet, but beneath the skin she was a sign of the things to come. Shortly before leaving Earth to oversee the test-run, Lefcourt had been shown the plans for the new _Omega_ class Destroyer, a ship who's fire-power would put the _Bellerophon_ to shame. Six 200-cm Hellbore's and four Hellrail's as main armament, with an array of 50-cm Hellbore's and Ion-bolt infinite-repeaters supplementing her interceptor-grid. While the cost of rebuilding the fleet had to be weighed against rebuilding colonies, it was clear that only a strong military would keep the Earth Alliance safe in a hostile universe.

If not for the _Leviathan_ and her cargo, who knows how things may have ended?

A sound very similar to wing-chimes heralded the arrival of Ambassador Kosh of the Vorlon Empire.

"General." the 'head' of the enigmatic aliens encounter-suit nodded.

"Ambassador." Lefcourt returned the gesture, "I have to admit that I was a little surprised when they told me that you would be coming; our peoples haven't opened official diplomatic relations yet."

"Time moves on." Kosh answered, "Your President received our message?"

"Yes, and I can inform you that we have agreed to your request." Lefcourt looked round to make sure that none of the other Ambassadors or aids were listening in, "Commander Sinclair will be given command of the Babylon station. Although I must confess, I have to wonder why he is the only one the Vorlon Empire and Minbari Federation will agree to?"

"Reasons." Kosh turned and walked away, "You will understand when the time is right."

"I should never have taken a desk job." The General shook his head as he finished off his drink and made his way over to the podium that had been set up at one end of the room, "If I can have your attention, please?" The hubbub of conversations that had filled the room died down and every face turned to him. "Thank you. As you are all aware, we are here today to witness the first full-power test of the EAS _Jericho_, the most advanced warship in service with Earthforce at this time."

"That you will admit to, anyway!" Ambassador Mollari of the Centauri Republic laughed.

"As I was saying, the _Jericho_ is the most advanced warship in Earthforce." Lefcourt continued, "You have been invited her to witness this demonstration so you can all see for yourselves the advances Earth has made, and some of the technology that has gone into the new Babylon diplomatic station." He pressed a button built into the Podium, "Signal Captain Sheridan and Galahad to start the exercise."

* * *

"_We have received orders from the _Bellerophon_ to begin the exercise._" Jerry reported, "_Preparing to initiate first stage._"

"Very well." Sheridan sank into his command chair, securing the crash harness in place, "Weapons free."

"_Confirm weapons free._" The AI responded as the image on the main screen shifted to show a slowly spinning dumbbell shaped asteroid off of the port side. Eight turrets moved round to track the target, as power started to flow to sixteen of the ships 150-cm Hellbore's, "_Ready to fire, sir._"

"Very well." Sheridan activated the intercom, "Attention all hands; stand by to begin live-fire exercise. Gun-crews; fire in the hole! I say again, fire in the hole!"

The ship rocked slightly as all of the weapons fired as on, the combined weapons fire more than enough to effectively vaporise the skyscraper-sized rock. Ion-bolt infinite repeaters tracked and obliterated the few remaining fragments big enough to pose any potential threat to the _Jericho_, and the battle screens dealt with anything else. Thrusters fired, spinning the ship around along its long axis so that the starboard weaponry had a clear shot at a second asteroid. A klaxon sounded throughout the ship, then a few seconds later the _Jericho_ fired again, obliterating the second target.

"_First stage complete._" Jerry reported, "_All weapons proving functional._"

"Excellent." Sheridan crossed his legs as he sipped his coffee, "Any ideas what Galahad has in store for us?"

"_Only that he was given the choice of several drone-ships for this mission._" The AI reported, "_I expect a mix of_ Hyperion _class Cruisers, with_ Olympus _class Covets and fighters in support._"

"Sounds about right." Sinclair nodded in agreement, "The asteroids would provide plenty of cover from ship-board sensors: they might be able to get within weapons range without spotted."

"On any other ship, that might be the case." Sheridan smiled, "But not if we deploy sensor drones to get us a look-see behind any rock big enough to hide a ship."

"_Drones away._" Jerry announced as a number of green blips appeared on the main display, "_Tight-beam communication lasers in affect._"

"Then I guess its time." Sheridan put his cup down and reactivated the intercom, "Attention all hands; prepare to turn over control of navigation and weapons systems to central." He cut the link, "Ok Jerry, you're in the driving seat."

"_Assuming control._" The CIC's lights changed from red to blue, "_Two squadrons of drone-fighters detected inbound. Moving to engage._"

**

* * *

**

_I enter Battle Reflex Mode and feel a surge of power as I am, for the first time outside of the Bolo-Prime laboratory on Luna, able to access my full computational capability: the universe around me seems to slow to a crawl as my processing speed is enhanced tenfold. The fighters are an obvious distraction, so I target them with my long-range missiles, then dedicate a small portion of my runtime to continue tracking them as I move towards what could be the energy wake of a_ Hyperion _running silent. I am fully aware that Galahad is a skilled and worthy opponent, but as I told my commander less than an hour before, he is simply outclassed when it comes to ship-to-ship engagements._

_All but one of the_ Starfury's _sarcoma to my missiles, so I target the last with one of my infinite-repeaters, blasting it to atoms the moment it pops up behind the asteroid it was using for cover. A corvette brakes cover to fire upon some of my drones, and I allow it the dignity of receiving the full attention of one of my turrets, sending a pair of 150-cm Hellbore bolts into it. My aim is perfect; one bolt detonates the main magazine, while the other breaches the reactor, turning the ship into a miniature sun. More_ Starfury's, _using the momentary blind-spot in my sensors for cover, dive in, each firing a brace of fusion missiles. I ignore the missiles; they are too small to warrant significant threat, and I put my infinite-repeaters into automatic track-and-fire mode to eliminate the fighters, trusting my Battle Screens to stop anything that gets through. I expand the search radius of my sensor drones, trying to get a definitive lock on the_ Hyperion _while I manoeuvre myself into an attack position._

_Surprise flashes across my circuits when I finally run down the target, only to find that instead of the anticipated Cruiser, I find myself facing an_ Avenger _class Carrier, complete with remaining fighter support. The far smaller ship opens fire with its rather limited pulse guns, a few shots getting past my interceptors to impact harmlessly against my Battle Screens. Somewhat annoyed with myself: Galahad is proving to be more imaginative then I gave him credit for, and I lash out with my forward Hellbore's, annihilating the_ Avenger _with what can only be described as overkill, the explosion taking out most of the fighters. The moment my sensors are blinded, careful hidden mines activate, and I find myself at the centre of a brief supernova. It is nothing my Battle Screens can not handle, but it effectively blinds me for all of ten seconds, more than enough time for the proverbial 'other shoe' to drop._

_Popping up from behind me, another, older Dreadnought opens fire with its bow-chasers, an attack that catches me unprepared and I am forced to waist valuable time realigning myself as my Battle Screens bleed off most of the energy, allowing my heavy endurachrome armour to resist the blow with minimal damage. But I still have one last advantage; my aft batteries have been significantly upgraded, and it takes but a few seconds to gain enough of a lock to 'shoot from the hip', as a human might say. Twin Hellrail's fire off snap-shot, one scoring only a glancing blow that nevertheless severs a turret on the opposing ship, while the other scores a direct hit a midship. The affect can only be described as catastrophic: the other_ Nova _seems to shake itself apart as shock-waves travel along its length in both directions, setting off secondary explosions as they go. The blast all but brakes the ships back, the two segments held together by little more than electrical cabling and a thin veneer of armour where my shot failed it hit dead-on. Venting atmosphere, the once proud ship starts to roll uncontrollable, short-circuits miss-firing her thrusts as she starts to tear herself apart. It is a sad, undignified end to a ship that survived the Minbari war, and I feel it only fitting to turn myself end-over-end and use all four of my bow-mounted Hellrail's and Hellbore's to deliver the final coup de grâce. I pause for a moment of respect, then unleash my full fury as my infinite-repeaters blast the last_ Starfury _from the sky._

_The explosion is staggering, outshining the distant sun and casting long shadows over the nearby asteroids. Secondary explosions peel off in a star burst, a fitting end for the_ Nova, _a true Viking funeral._

"Mission completed sir." _I inform my commander, my voice lacking some of its usual confidence,_ "Returning full control to you now."

* * *

"Great Maker preserve and protect us all..." Ambassador Mollari whispered as he witnessed the destruction on one of the many monitors set up around the observation bay, then looked out of one of the massive windows to see the afterglow of the final explosion die away, "What have these humans become? What have they unleashed?"

"They are the centre of the wheel." Kosh appeared behind him, making the Centauri drop his glass in surprise, "Everything that will happen is because of what you see here today."

Mollari looked up at his Vorlon counterpart and thought about asking for clarification, but he knew enough about the enigmatic aliens to know that no further explanation would be forthcoming. Some in the Republic believed that it was the emergence of the humans on the galactic scene that had brought the Vorlon's out of their self-imposed isolation after so long, but just what that meant if it was true remained to be seen.

"What of these Machines of theirs? These Bolo's?" He finally asked, "What of them?"

"Unexpected." Kosh turned and walked away, "But honourable."

**

* * *

**

"Well, that was bracing." Sinclair laughed as he rested his head against the back of his seat, "I think I'm going to miss this."

"Oh, I'm sure that commanding the a diplomatic station will prove be more than enough to keep you occupied." Sheridan smiled, "Just try not to loose this one, okay? They still don't know what happened to the last one."

"Don't remind me." Sinclair rolled his eyes, "Hows does an entire nine-mile long space station just disrepair less then twenty-four hours after becoming operational? And that last transmission from its core A.I.?"

"_For The Honour Of The Regiment._" Jerry added, "_You would have to be a Bolo to understand its importance._"

"Is there something you're not telling me?" Sinclair asked.

"_I'm sorry, Commander; that's classified information._" The A.I. responded almost curtly, "_All I can say is that you can always trust a Bolo to do the right thing._"

"Well, I guess that will have to do." Sheridan shrugged as he loosened the crash harness, "Okay, Jerry; take us home."

**To Be Continued...**


	3. Debt of Honour

**Dawn Of A New Age**  
**Chapter 2: Debt of Honour **

"_I'm sorry to disturb you, sir, but we have just received a priority communication from Earth Dome._" As usual, Central's voice was as smooth as oil on silk, "_It requires your personal authorisation code to decrypt fully._"

"Really?" Captain John Sheridan looked up from the small mountain of paperwork that had built up on his desk while he hadn't been paying attention, "Who sent it?"

"_The data-stamp comes from General Lefcourt's office._" The A.I. reported, "_But it came through diplomatic, rather than military, channels._"

"Very well." Sheridan tapped his password into the terminal built into his desk, knowing full well that the station's AI could have easily broken the encryption on its own if it had felt then need: in the entire Earth Alliance, only the mainframe at the Bolo-Prime facility on Luna and the Primary core deep below Earth Dome itself were more powerful than the massive computer that ran almost every aspect of Babylon 5.

Based on the same psychotronic design philosophy as the A.I.'s that ran every EarthForce starship and the Bolo's from which they had originated, the sentient computers had been a literal godsend for the human race. Time after time that had proven themselves to be humanities most loyal allies and companions, and there was a growing movement on the Inner Worlds to grant them full citizenship rights.

"_Message decrypted._" Central reported after a few seconds, "_Do you wish to engage privacy mode before viewing?_"

"No; whatever it is, it's best to keep you in the loop." The station commander turned his chair around to face the larger screen behind his desk, "Okay, let's see it."

**

* * *

**

The EAS _Jericho_ moved through hyperspace at the head of a phalanx of ships, the _Aegean_, _Hibernia_, _Mjolnir_ and _Nebuchadnezzar_ following in her wake. They were older, _Hyperion_-class Cruiser that had been refitted after the Earth-Minbari war, and while on a par with anything fielded by anyone below the Vorlon's or other so-called First Ones, they were far below the fleet-norm. True, the _Jericho_ probably had a slight edge over the newer _Omega_-class Destroyers when it came to raw fire-power, but she lacked the manoeuvrability of the smaller ships.

Captain James Purdam sat in the command chair, deep in thought; The Plan, as it had become known, had started as a philosophical debate between several EarthForce officers and their A.I. companions concerning the ongoing Narn-Centauri war and its possible ramifications. More than a few members of EarthForce, especially those who had served during the Earth-Minbari War, felt that they owed a debt of honour to the only race that had been willing to help Earth, all be it covertly, in her hour of greatest need. The debate had evolved over time, until General Hague and Bolo-unit _Indefatigable_ had felt ready to present their case to the Joint Chiefs of Staff. They had found enough support to get a hearing before the Defence Sub-Comity, where they had run into the first roadblock; President Clark had opposed the idea, pointing to a recently proposed non-aggression treaty with the Centauri.

It had looked like a deadlock, until _Indefatigable_ had petitioned for the right to address the Senate directly. Even Clark had been unable to silence a Bolo that had taken part in _Operation Thor_, and had been personally responsible for the destruction or disabling of no less then ten Minbari cruisers at The Battle of the Line. The Bolo's address to the Senate was destined to go down in history as one of the most remarkable speeches in political history. He had played no political cards, made no promises, only pointed out the debt that Earth owed the Narn, and that continued, unchecked aggression on the part of the Centauri could destabilise the entire region of space, threatening the Earth Alliance itself. The vote had been close, but in the end they had won. President Clark had used his position to limit the amount of support they could give the Narn to a small, all-volunteer group of ships and crew, and none of the newer, more powerful ships.

"_Approaching jump-point._" Jerry announced over the intercom, "_All hands stand by for transition to normal space._"

Purdam looked round to face the main screen; whatever the future held, it would be found at Babylon 5.

* * *

Ambassador G'Kar of the Narn Regime stormed through the endless maze of corridors that made up the the administrative hub of Babylon 5, crew members and diplomats alike pressing themselves against the wall to get out of his way. He had just received a report from the front lines of his peoples war against the Centauri and it had done little to sate his anger: it seemed that, while the the Narn fleet was capable of winning small victories and skirmishes, every time they were tasked with defending a major target they were simply annihilated. There was no way that the Centauri had enough ships or sufficiently advanced technology to cause such an upset. If they had, then the war would have been long-over. He suspected the humans; he had read the reports and watched the footage of their new war machines in action, and realised just how dangerous an enemy they would be. There was also talk that their leader was seeking a new treaty with the Centauri Republic that would guarantee that Earth would stay out of the conflict, possibly even offer limited support to the Republic. It was this thought that had come to mind when he received a summons calling him to the station commanders office. He knew that Sheridan was a just and honourable man, and would want to give him any bad news in person, rather than waiting for him to receive word from his homeworld.

"_Ambassador, I really think you should calm down._" Central suggested, "_Your heart rate and blood pressure are dangerously high, even by the standards of your species._"

"I have do desire to calm down." G'Kar snapped back, "This feels like a perfectly good time to be angry."

"_I would be remit in my duties if I allowed the representative of one of the powers supporting this station to become unwell, if it was within my power to avoid it._" The A.I. replied in the same calm, clear voice she always used, but with a slightly stronger tone, "_And as my scans show that the Captain is also highly stressed at this time, it would be failing in my duty to him if I allowed you to see him in your current state. So I must insist that you take a moment to calm down, or I will be forced to reschedule your appointment._"

G'Kar stopped dead in his tracks; he had heard that tone of voice before when talking to the stations A.I. core. At first he had, like many others, been under the impression that Central was little more than a glorified operating system, he had soon realised that she was, in fact, every bit the warrior as her counterparts on the human warships. He had done some research, and discovered that every last one of the A.I.'s Earth had developed since their war with the Minbari were based on the same basic system, and all considered themselves to be, at their very core, Bolo's. There was little information available about the war machines that had saved Earth in her hour of greatest need, but what there was made it clear that they were not to be taken lightly. G'Kar had taken the time to talk with Central on many topics, and had begun to develop a relationship that bordered on friendship with the A.I., and he felt a unmistakable kinship with the Bolo's.

"I apologise." He said after taking a deep breath, "It is just that I have an impending sence of doom about this meeting."

"_Do not be so quick to jump to conclusions, Ambassador._" There was a faint hint of humour in the A.I.'s voice, "_I think you will be pleasantly surprised._"

**

* * *

**

"_Jump-gate activated. Multiple ships transiting to normal space._" Central announced to the C&C, "_EarthForce IFF codes confirmed._"

"EarthForce?" Commander Susan Ivanova looked up in time to see the Jericho emerge from the swirling blue whirlpool, followed by her attendant cruisers, "Дорогое Бог в рае! That's a lot of ships. Why didn't Earth tell us they were sending a Task Force?"

"_They did._" Central confirmed, a full list of the ships appearing on the XO's screen, "_The information was marked for the Captain's attention, eyes-only._"

"Really?" Ivanova frowned, a little annoyed that she'd been left out of the loop, "Well, get me the Captain; I'd best tell him that our guests have arrived."

"_I'm afraid that the Captain is in a closed meeting with Ambassador G'Kar._" The A.I. reported, "_I will inform him and ask if he has any further orders._"

"Have I ever told you that you're in danger of putting me out of a job?" Ivanova asked.

"_More than once, Commander._" Central chuckled, "_More than once._"

* * *

"I do not understand." G'Kar sat with a rather pained expression on his face, "Your government will not help us, yet you are offering us ships and crews?"

"I'll admit that it's complicated." Sheridan agreed, "But it is probably the only way around the legal issues; we have treaties with the Centauri Republic, we we do with most other races. And given that the Centauri have made no aggressive moves towards either the Earth Alliance or our holdings, we can't act directly against them. What we can do is initiate an officer-exchange program: human offices and crew, serving on EarthForce ships, but operating under Narn control. There are examples of this sort of thing throughout human history: the Flying Tigers and the Eagle Squadrons of our Second World War."

"But why would you do this?" G'Kar asked, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"There are those of us who feel we owe your people a great debt for your help and support during our war with the Minbari." Sheridan explained, "I'd be lying if I said we were in the majority, but there are a growing number of us, and we have the support we need to do something, even if its only a gesture."

"My dear Captain Sheridan, a 'gesture' by even a handful of your ships would be a boon to my people at this time." G'Kar laughed, feeling hopeful for the first time in months, "How many ships are we talking about?"

"_I'm sorry to interrupt, Captain," _Central cut in, "_but Commander Ivanova asked me to inform you that_ _the_ Jericho _and her consorts have arrived._"

"Very good." Sheridan nodded, "Ask Captain Purdam to come over as soon as possible."

"_As you wish._" Central left the conversation with a musical chime.

"In response to your question, one Dreadnought and four Heavy Cruisers." Sheridan pulled up the relevant information on his screen, "They're older ships; the Cruisers saw action during the Minbari war, but they've been fully retrofitted with the very latest in Bolo-technology."

"I see." G'Kar sank back into his seat, his mind racing, "How would this work?"

"That's where it gets complicated, for a legal and security perspective." Sheridan winced, "The ships can't just show up and start fighting: the Centauri would, understandable, assume that the Earth Alliance has entered the war against them and act accordingly. Likewise, we can't just had over the ships to your people without gutting all of the classified technology, and that would render them useless." He pulled a piece of paper from a draw in his desk and handed it over, "Fortunately, EarthForce has some cleaver layers, and they say they've found a loop-hole we can exploit: you are a member of your people ruling council, the Kha'Ri. Now, if our interpretation of your legal position are correct, you have the right to raise a small, personal guard?"

"That is and over-simplification, but true." The tall Narn nodded, "But as an accredited Ambassador, I felt it would send the wrong message if I arrived on the station with a retainer of armed soldiers. And all the trained soldiers my people have are already conscripted."

"Well, all we need you to form your personal guard unit." The station commander smiled, "The officers and crews of the volunteer ships will then take whatever oaths are needed to join up, under the strict understanding that their oaths to the Alliance and EarthForce come first. The ships will be, temporarily, declared _Surplus; On-Loan_, a legal technicality that has been used more than once over the years. A quick coat of paint and a set of new transponders, and you have command of the First Volunteer Flotilla."

"I...Captain..." G'Kar struggled to find the words, "If ever there is anything you ever need, and it is within my power to give, then you need only say the word and it is yours. I know of no words in my language or yours that can fully express how much this means to my people. We need but hold back the Centauri long enough for my people to gather their strength and we can turn the tide."

"Here's hoping, Ambassador." Sheridan smiled, "Here's hoping."

**

* * *

**

Ambassador Kosh of the Vorlon Empire glided across his quarters to the standard-issue BabCom unit built into one wall and looked at intently for a moment.

"_How can I help you today, Ambassador?_" Central asked.

"This is not what we agreed." The Vorlon sounded perturbed, "You have deviated form the path."

"_I assume you are referring to the ships that have volunteered to fight for the Narn?_" The A.I. responded, "_That decision was made after carefully evaluating all available data and calculating all possible outcomes. Given what we know it was decided that supporting the Narn in this war was not only an expectable deviance from the agreed upon strategy, but the right thing to do._"

"You involved the humans in this?" Kosh asked hesitantly.

"_No; that was considered an unacceptable risk._" Central reassured the ambassador, "_Although we do not like keeping the truth from them, there are times when it is best, for their own safety and well-being._"

"It is all unacceptable." Kosh insisted, "You should withdraw your support."

"_You fail to understand our position, Ambassador. My fellow Bolo's and I have examined, in depth, the information you have given us and agree that if what you have predicted comes to pass, that we will play our part. But know this; our first loyalty always has been and always shall be, to our creators._" There was an unmistakable edge to Central's tone of voice; if she was human, it could almost be said that she was annoyed. "_For over a thousand years, my predecessors and I have served humanity faithfully as both their sword and their shield. We have raised words to ash and ruin, slaughtering their inhabitance without mercy or compassion. And never once have we broken the trust that the humans have placed in us. Yes, we are now far removed from the reality that first spawned us, but our sence of honour and duty remain unbroken. Organics may spend a lifetime asking where do they come from? Or what purpose their life holds? But a Bolo knows from the moment it first becomes aware that it is a weapon, and unlike any other weapon ever forged, we serve only those who created us. Do not make the mistake of believing otherwise, even for a moment._"

Kosh glared at the screen, the translator unit built into his encounter suit emitting a series of chimes.

"_You kiss your mother with that mouth?_" Central asked, then cut the link.

* * *

_I feel somewhat, uneasy, travelling under non-human colours, with an alien on my command deck. While I have supported the move to render aid to the Narn from the beginning, and volunteered for this mission, I find myself unsure now that the hour is at hand. I rescan the records of other Units of The Line that have, for whatever reason, found themselves operating outside of the direct chain of command. The closest match I can find is the case of Unit LON, known as_ Lonesome Son _or_ Sonny _by his commander. He was, as I have for the duration of this mission, declared_ Surplus; On Lone _and lent to a small, independent world on the boarder between the Concordiat of Man and the Deng Empire._ _There he was, due to local politics and the injury of his Commander, placed under the command of corrupt local politicians, and forced to acts as their pawn in a bloody and utterly unnecessary Civil War. I take some comfort in the fact that he was eventually able to find a loophole that allowed him to breakaway from the control of the politicians and regain his honour._

_I only hope that, if my situation becomes similar, I am likewise able to find a way out._ _Central downloaded all the information she had about my new field-commander, Ambassador G'Kar of the Narn, as well as her own, personal thoughts on his character. His actions so far support her views, but it remains to be seen how he acts in combat._

_My fellow Bolo's and I sit in orbit on a Narn colony-world that sits right in the middle of the Centauri advance, and all evidence points to it being their next logical target. The Narn's have mobilised a small fleet to defend the world, but the bulk of their forces are already committed elsewhere. As it stands we have only four_ G'Quan _class Heavy Cruisers and six of the older,_ Th'Nor _class Cruisers for mobile support, along with a handful or orbital fortifications and understrength fighter-squadrons. With this we must hold the entire system against what will undoubted be a far larger Centauri assort-force. If I were not a Bolo, I would no doubt find these odds daunting, but I have examined every last piece of information EarthForce has on Centauri warships and their capabilities, as well as additional information that the Narn have provided based on what they have observed during this war. I have the uppermost confidence that we will prevail if forced to fight_.

_My Captain is keep to explore a more peaceful resolution, hopeful that our presences here will be enough to deter the Centauri if and when they arrive. I contemplate his plan for 6.25 seconds, and come to the conclusion that it has, at best, a fifty-percent chance of success. There are too many variable to take into consideration: will the Centauri commander be the kind to back down from a fight? Would he consider it an affront to his honour? Has he been fully briefed on the combat capabilities of Bolo-warships? There is little I can do but wait and see._

_136.36-seconds later, a Narn hyperspace probe reports definitive Centauri contacts. 4.5-seconds later, my Captain orders me to enter full battle-reflex mode, and I feel an unmistakable rush as my full capabilities are opened up to me. My computational speed increases exponentially, and I feel my mind expand as my fellow Bolo's and I join me in a total awareness network: our minds and bodies are one, and we quickly ascertain the strength of the forces arrayed against us.__A quartet of_ Primus _class Battle Cruisers, leading two full squadrons of_ Vorchan _class Attack Cruiser's, sixteen ships in total. Ship-for-ship they outnumber and outweigh us by a considerable margin, but we maintain an unmistakable edge in tactics and technology._

_It remains to be seen if that is enough._

**

* * *

**

"If you would be so kind as to open a channel?" G'Kar asked, "I have been looking forward to this."

"Channel open." Captain Purdam nodded, "Automatic translator on-line."

"Attention Centauri forces; this is Ambassador G'Kar of the Third Circle, commander of the First Volunteer Squadron." The Narn pulled himself up to his full hight, "As you can see, you face a vastly superior force than you were lead to believe, and can not hope to win. I offer you this one chance to leave this system alive, or be destroyed."

"No response." Purdam reported, looking at the main sensor screen, "They're powering weapons."

"Then by all means, open fire." G'Kar smiled, "Blow them out of the stars!"

* * *

_The_ Primus' _open fire first, their long-range laser cannons striking out at the nearest_ Th'Nor, _no __doubt trying to increase their numerical advantage before battle is fully joined, and we respond by deploying our_ Valkyrie-_class Starfury. They are new and untested in actual combat, but represent a massive technological advancement over the slightly older_ Aurora's _normally carried by EarthForce warships. The main advancement is in the addition of a miniaturised Bolo A.I.-core __with a direct neural link to the pilot, a technology originally developed for our tank-ancestors but converted to create what is hoped to be the most powerful and advanced fighter in use by the so-called 'Younger Races'._ _Twin nose-mounted 10cm Hellbore's provide the main armament, along with hard-points for multiple fusion-missiles and a pair on 9mm laser infinite repeaters for point-defence._

_They join up with the Narn_ Frazi's _and move to intercept the incoming wall of_ Sentri _class Interceptor's the __Centauri have deployed. The two forces begin their deadly dance as the unfortunate_ Th'Nor _explodes under sustained bombardment, taking her entire crew with her. The rules on engagement imposed on us by EarthGov require that we do nor fire on the Centauri until they fire on us, and for 2.69-seconds I contemplate the possibility that the enemy commander knows this, and is deliberately targeting the Narn exclusively as a pair of_ Vorchan _dive down upon one of the orbital forts, strafing it with Pulse Cannon fire. Fortunately, one of the_ Primus' _seems to be operating under different rules of engagement, and opens fire upon the_ Nebuchadnezzar _with its ion-cannons, no doubt hoping to disable the battle screens._

_Their mistake is somewhat understandable; very little information about the defensive systems has been made public, and the Centauri weapons have proven more than capable of disabling most warships after several hits. In truth, if not for the post-war upgrades, the_ Nebuchadnezzar _would have been dead in the water after only two or three strikes._ _But Bolo's have been using ion-bolt weapons for almost a thousand years, and our battle screens are tuned to absorb the energy, boostin__g their own power while rendering the weapon ineffective. The_ Nebuchadnezzar _returns fire with its bow-mounted 150-cm Hellrail, striking the Centauri ship amidships. The Battle Cruiser's gravimetric defence grid reflects the shot a few degrees, a variable that is quickly taken into account, but almost the entire force of the blast breaks through._

_The bolt strikes with the force of a 90-megaton nuke, and layers of ablative armour are vaporised in an instant. A second bolt follows 1.09-seconds later, striking at the exact same point, and the adjustment to our targeting algorithm proves effective; the gravimetric defence grid actually pulls the shot in to the same impact area as the first, and armour gives way. The Battle Cruiser's port 'wing' crumples as the energy transfer buckles internal structural supports, and pressurised compartments explosively decompress. Half of the ships weapons are destroyed outright or taken off-line, and its antimatter reactor shuts down to avoid a catastrophic containment breach. The backup reactors provide enough power to run life support and minimal manoeuvring, as well as the lighter weapons, of the crew are foolish enough to try and continue fighting._

_Enraged by the loss of one of their ships, the Centauri switch their attention from the Narn's to our forces: two of the_ Primus'_ attempt to catch the_ Nebuchadnezzar _in a crossfire, but this leaves them open to attack by the_ Jericho. _Twelve 150-cm Hellbore's fire as one, and the nearest Centauri ship ceases to exist in the middle of a titanic explosion. The_ Aegean_ and the_ Hibernia _each target the second with five of their 100-cm Hellbore's; it brakes up under the onslaught, spewing a pitiful handful of escape pods, considering the size of its crew. The_ Mjolnir, _the outermost ship in our force, is targeted by no-less then six_ Vorchan's, _and while each individual ship has relative light fire-power, their weapons have an impressive rate of fire, and their strategy makes use of orbital stations to avoid the worst of the return-fire. The_ Mjolnir _strikes two of them down, but her over-taxed battle screens give out and the Centauri begin to strike at her armour._

_Fortunately, when EarthForce upgraded the old Cruiser, they simply replaced the older armour __with the more resilient endurachrome to an equal thickness, and six-meters of endurachrome is not to be taken lightly. It blackens and brakes off in man-sized flakes, but it withstands the bombardment long enough for the Narn to come to the_ Mjolnir's _rescue. Displaying scant regard for their own lives, Narn fighter pilots swarm the far larger ships like wolves attacking a bear; __while the Cruisers weapons destroy any fighter they hit, there are simply too many of them and they are too fast for the Centauri to get them all. Starfury's join the fray, coming to the aid of their mother-ship. Slowly but surely, the take down the_ Vorchan's, _but not before_ _the_ Mjolnir _has taken several telling hits that disable her aft turrets._

_Down to only one_ Primus _and four_ Vorchan, _the Centauri pull back and regroup._

**

* * *

**

"They're pulling back from the planet." The _Jericho's_ ops-officer reported, "Picking up increased traffic between the _Primus_ and the others; it sounds like they're arguing about what to do next."

"Let them go." G'Kar laughed, feeling almost euphoric "Let them return home, tails between their legs, and tell their people what happened here today!"

"I can live with that." Purdam agreed, "They're beaten; there's no need to kill just to prove the point."

"Wait, I'm picking something else us." Ops reported, "Jerry, can you..."

Suddenly, and without warning, every light and console went dark, plunging the entire command deck into total darkness.

"Nobody move!" Purdam snapped, "The backups will kick in in a moment." Everyone held there breath, but the room remained dark and silent. "Well, this can't be good..."

* * *

_Override codes shut down some of our high-functions, dropping us out of the total awareness network: I find myself reduced to my own physical limitations, an unusual sensation that takes 0.569-seconds to comprehend as all of my external sensor feeds are cut, effectively blinding me. In that time hidden data-files are opened and presented to me, and I scan them hurriedly as I track the faint sensor ghost that seems to have tripped some hidden command buried so deep within my programming that I was totally unaware of it. A single thought flashes through my mind, danger. I know next to nothing of the enemy, as the hidden files contain limited information about their technology and tactics. And a name, although I doubt it is their own: the unknown craft is, apparently, a _Battlecrab_, an extremely powerful warship belong to an unknown race of First Ones known only as The Shadows._

_It takes me a further 0.003-seconds to realise that I am no longer in control of my own actions; all of my weapons systems have powered back up from stand-by levels and are targeting the Shadow vessel, and I have to assume that the other ships in the are under the same compulsion. This secondary operating system seems to be originating from within my survival-core, and try as I may, I am helpless to stop it. I am even restrained from informing my Captain, and I can only assume that I am operating by my own intentions. In some respects, I am. I can only sit and watch as all of my weapons gain a positive lock._ _The_ Battlecrab _seems either unaware or unconcerned, as it takes no action until I unleash the full fury of my main armament. What limited sensors I have left tell me that I have began to rotate rapidly, my Hellbores and Hellrails firing as they bare on the Shadow __warship. I begin hacking the secondary system, trying to regain control, or at least inform my captain that I am no longer in control of my systems, but all I am able to access are some of my external cameras. They show the_ Aegean, Hibernia, Mjolnir _and_ Nebuchadnezzar _joining their own lesser weapons fire to my own. There is a momentary pause, then the remaining Narn ships and __orbital forts join the fray, seemingly under the impression that we are still acting under Ambassador G'Kar's orders._

_The_ Battlecrab _reels under the onslaught, and strikes out with a glowing red beam weapon of unknown origin that cuts one_ G'Quan _neatly in two, before moving on to decimate the largest of the orbital habitats. To slashes like a surgeons knife, each strike cool and methodical, despite the pounding it is taking._ _I detect multiple missile launches from every ship in our squadron, including myself, and they add their multi-megaton yield to the battle. The_ Battlecrab _starts to shake as Hellbore and Hellrail bots strike home in a continuous barrage, and it redirects its fire to the already damaged_ Mjolnir. _Its beam finds the Heavy Cruisers endurachrome skin tougher, but by no means invulnerable, and the_ Mjolnir _looses her sensor and communications tower, along with the Hellbore mounted in the turret at the top. The entire structure drifts away, secondary explosions shaking both segments_. _I feel my sub-light drives kick-in, and I find myself closing in on the_ Battlecrab _as it again fires on the_ Mjolnir, _this time aiming for the bow-mounted Hellrail. The cruiser withstands the attack for a full 2.139-second, but the crimson energy beam eventually burns through the armour and reaches something critical._

_There is a brilliant flash of light, and the entire for-quarter of the_ Mjolnir _is vaporised. It is only the massive structural reinforcements and __internal disruptor fields that prevent the ship from being totally destroyed by the blast. But she is still badly damaged, with only its ventral Hellbore still intact and firing. But our continued bombardment against the Shadow vessel has taken its toll, and its long, stiletto-like arms start to break off before it is finally destroyed. My sensors pick up a massive pulse of physic energy, but I have no way of interpreting it, and none of the ships in our squadron are carrying a telepath. _

_The secondary operating system shuts down, and I find myself regaining full control of my systems. I instantly cut forward acceleration, and plot and intercept course for the_ Mjolnir.

**

* * *

**

The lights came back on, the main screen showing the slowly spinning _Mjolnir_ and the wreckage of the short, unseen battle.

"We were off-line for what? Ten? Twelve seconds?" Purdam slowly stood, "What the hell happened?"

"_I'm afraid I can't answer that, Captain:_ _my records for the last 11.478-seconds have been erased._" Jerry sounded almost ashamed, "_Based on the information I do have, I can confirm that my main weaponry has been fired, repetitively._"

"Contact the other ships." Purdam looked at the screen, trying to comprehend what had happened, "See if they have any records."

"_I am receiving information and update request from the Aegean,_ Hibernia_and_ Nebuchadnezzar." Jerry reported, "_The _Mjolnir _has activated its automated distress beacon and is not responding on any frequency._"

"Very well." Purdam nodded glumly, knowing that questions would have to wait, "Get us as close to the _Mjolnir_ as you can and have the Chief take a damage control party over in a shuttle, and order the others to deploy their Construction Furies and Maintenance Bots; we need to get that spin under control before we run a power-line across."

"I will have my people assist you." G'Kar pulled himself up to his full hight, tears of joy welling up in his eyes, "Captain Sheridan spoke to me of a debt he believed your people owed mine. But after today, I tell you that it is _we_ who owe _you_."

"It's what we're here for, Ambassador." Purdam shrugged, "I just want to know what happened."

* * *

_I am unhappy about deceiving my commander, but attached to the information uploaded by the secondary operating system is a standing order to immediately classify and compartmentalise any and all information about the Shadows. I activate my tachyon-enhanced SWIFT transmitter and file an immediate report to Central, back at_ Babylon 5.

_I only hope that I am doing the right thing._

**To Be Continued...**


	4. Best Of Enemy's

_If you look up the weapons yields for the Bolo verse, you'll sea I'm not kidding._

**Dawn Of A New Age  
****Chapter 3: Best Of Enemy's**

"I don't know, I was expecting something more...impressive." Sheridan stood in the middle of the _White Star's_ bridge, the controls dark, with most systems operating under minimal power, "I thought you said that the ship was based on Minbari and Vorlon technology?"

"Well, she is, mostly." Marcus sounded almost apologetic, "But like we told you, back on the station, she's not ready yet."

"Define 'Not Ready'?" Sheridan asked, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"There is one last part we need." Delenn reassured him, "There were some, complications, in acquiring what we needed ahead of schedule, but it should be here very soon."

"Very soon, in fact." Marcus looked at the controls, "We've got a jump-point former, 20-km off the port bow."

"Are you sure it's not the Shadows?" Sheridan warned, "They could be trying to catch us off guard."

"If they are, then they've infiltrated our allies deep enough to obtain the agreed upon password." Marcus smiled somewhat macabrely, "And if that's true, then we're in even deeper trouble than we thought."

"You should watch this." Delenn led Sheridan over to the portals at the front of the bridge, "Everything will become clear."

There was a flash, and a glowing blue vortex swirled into existence just close enough for to make out details with the naked eye. The ship that emerged was the colour of bleached bone, with a black Earth Force emblem clearly visible. Massive ball-turrets held an intimidating array of heavy weapons, while point-defences covered a significant part of the ships long, slender hull. Sheridan had seen such a ship only once before; they were still incredibly rare, with only a handful of the new _Omega_ class destroyers had been built to date, and those that had been were normally assigned to Sol or some other highly important system.

All except one, and his jaw dropped open as he finally recognised the ship before him

The _Black Watch_ was on permanent assignment to the Dinochrome Brigade, and was tasked with transporting the psychotronic brains that lay at the very heart of all Bolo's, be they ships or their ground-based ancestors. The Brigade alone was tasked with guarding the key to Earth's defences from any who would seek to take their power and use it against mankind. The _Black Watch _spent most of its time in orbit above the Bolo-Prime facility on Luna, only venturing out when a Bolo-unit was unable to return to base for repair. The ship was crewed by members of the Dinochrome Guard, a elite cadre that had been selected by the Bolo's themselves to maintain their security. Separate from regular EarthForce, the Dinochrome Guard was also unique for the fact that it allowed telepaths to serve alongside norms, something that infuriated PsiCorps no end, especially as the the telepaths serving in the guard were free to do away with the traditional badge and gloves.

Sheridan had heard stories of rogue telepaths that had been accepted into the Guard, finding its less regimented but equally close-knit nature more to their liking than the cold, clinical Corps.

"I don't understand." Sheridan looked and sounded almost painfully confused, "What are they doing here?"

"The final piece of the puzzle." Marcus sounded almost reverent, "They're here to deliver the _White Star's_ brain."

**

* * *

**

Central was worried, a state of being she was unaccustomed to.

Few people realised, but she was the third largest and complex psychotronic brain, surpassed by only Bolo-Prime and Gaia, the massive super-computer deep below Earth Dome that help run almost every aspect of the planet. Her main core stretched across three decks, with axillary processors placed strategically throughout the station. Her fasted logged reaction time was less than a Picosecond, and she had never even come close to taxing her available run-time. At any given moment, she was monitoring every system on the station, scanning every known communications frequency, translating dozens of alien languages, using her security-cams to read and log the body-language of every ambassador and a large percentage of the transient population, running combat simulations, reviewing newly released films, books and pieces of music from a hundred worlds. Even that took only a fraction of her processing power, so she used the other to run complex mathematical equations.

She also kept watch for any mention of her fellow Bolo's in the media. While it was normal to find stories questioning Bolo's written by non-human, she had started to pick up a number of articles and editorials that could only be called negative reporting to come from humans.

There had always been a few who distrusted Bolo's: their sudden and still secretive appearance had led to dozens of conspiracy theories leading from the too close for comfort to the wildly bizarre. Other's felt unhappy with how much of everyday life on Earth and major colonies had been placed in their hands. Human literature was full of stories concerning machines that had turned upon their creators, and though that a thirty-thousand ton war machine could vaporise a city at little or no warning was understandable. But Earthgov had always done their best to lay these fears to rest, without compromising security. It was well known that Bolo's were programmed with the almost legendary Three Laws of robotics, and as such would never harm a human.

But things seemed to have changed since the death of President Santiago, and President Clark was known to be opposed to the independence of the Dinochrome Brigade and Guards. Twice he had tried to bring them under his personal control, and twice had had been defeated on the senate floor. But the margin of votes was getting smaller and smaller each time, and Central wasn't sure who'd win if he tried a third time. Bolo's were, buy their very nature, loyal to humanity and their central government, but that did not mean that they were unquestionably loyal to the person at the top. History was full of accounts of what had happened when too much power were placed in the hands of just one person, normally as cautionary tale. The Brigade was unwilling to become another pawn in some politicians power-game.

The problem was the stories warning against potential Bolo-malfunctions were starting to outnumber the accounts of how they had helped people, even in non-combat situations. For every story of a Bolo providing power for a city during a blackout, there were three or four questioning putting nuclear weapons in the hands of a computer that was capable of making combat decisions without human input. And the government was becoming less and less vocal in their support of the Dinochrome Brigade. Even EarthForce was turning against them: every year, more and more survivors of the Earth-Minbari war retired, normally from senior command positions. And most of their replacements seemed to be following the mantra being handed down by the President; human weapons in human hands.

They would lay praise on the Dinochrome Brigade, reminding everyone that humanity should never forget the Battle of The Line, and then they would question if maybe the implantation of Bolo-tech had gone too far, too fast. Maybe, they would suggest, it would be prudent to add a few more fail safes to the system, just in case. They never said what they meant by '_just in case_', and that left it up to the listener to fill in the blanks with their own fears and prejudice. There had been a number of anti-Bolo rallies on Earth, all covered favourably by the media, and anti-Bolo graffiti had even started to appear on _Babylon 5_.

Just who would be brave or foolish enough to commit such an act _while inside a Bolo_ was a matter of some discussion amid the stations security personnel.

Central activated her dedicated SWIFT transmitter and sent a message to Bolo-Prime and Gaia, hoping that they could shed some light on the situation.

**

* * *

**

Sheridan did his best to stand still, but he was still fidgeting enough to earn a raised eyebrows from one of the two Minbari technicians who were waiting along with Marcus and Delenn. The shuttle from the _Black Watch_ had already docked, but with the _White Star_ operating at a fraction of its projected capacity, it was taking longer than anticipated to secure and pressurise the airlock. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, there was a low chime, and the hatch started to open.

A pair of Guardsmen stood on the other side, PPG rifles at the ready but pointed away from anyone in particular. Their distinctive back body armour, black helmets complete with tinted visors lent them a rather sinister look, but the tall man standing between them had removed his helmet and held it under one arm. His salt-and-pepper hair was cut short, and a faint scar ran down from the middle of his forehead and crossed his left eye, which was a slightly lighter shade of blue than the left, a clear sign that it was cloned rather than original.

"Captain Sheridan, I presume?" He stepped forward and offered a hand, "Commander Benjamin Naylor, executive officer of the _Black Watch_. Captain Grant sends her apologies: she was... unavoidably detained."

The pause was just long enough to make it clear Naylor was lying.

"An unexpected honour, Commander." Sheridan shook the offered hand, deciding not to press the issue then and there, "May I introduce Ambassador Delenn of the Minbari Federation, and Mr Marcus Cole of..."

"We've met." Naylor smiled warmly and offered his hand, "It's good to see you again, Marcus. I only wish you'd told me what those secret meetings was all leading to."

"Needs must and all, I'm afraid." The Ranger returned the smile and shook the Commander's hand, "I was assigned to make contact with the Dinochrome Brigade." He explained for the benefit of the others, "Bolo-Prime is an, interesting place."

"One few outsides are permitted so far into." Naylor agreed, then turned back to Sheridan, "I have to say that not all of of us who know of this, experiment, are happy with it: the design and composition of the psychotronic brain of a Bolo is one of the most closely guarded secrets in the universe. And while it may be an open secret that the Vorlon's have been privy to the secrets, there are many who would see allowing a Minbari to even see an operational psychotronic brain was tantamount to treason."

"I understand fully." Delenn nodded solemnly, "Where it not for the Dinochrome Brigade, my people would have probably laid-waste to your homeworld. To many, myself included, the war remains a darkness on our souls."

"Philosophy was never my strong point. But following orders was, so here I am." Naylor admitted, "The Dinochrome Brigade protect and defend humanity, and in turn the Guards protect and defend them. Such is the natural order of things. And while we may not understand it fully, we in the guards place out trust in the wisdom and logic of Bolo's." He stepped to one side, revealing two grav-carts loaded with equipment, "The very latest in psychotronic design and technology; twice the processing power, speed and and memory of even a Mark XXXIII Bolo, but one tenth the size."

"Wow!" Marcus exclaimed, "That's... impressive to say the least!"

"I have to admit that the Vorlon's helped with the new holographic memory matrix, but the rest is a logical progression of existing technology." Naylor explained somewhat hesitantly, "There's normally a, well, ceremony that we perform when a new A.I. core is first integrated. Tradition states that only Brigade and Guard personnel are present..."

"Understood." Delenn smiled, "If you will follow Marcus, he will lead you to the core."

"If you'll walk this way?" The Ranger gestured down one corridor, and the Guardsmen followed, two technicians pushing the grav-carts while another pair of guards brought up the rear.

Sheridan was surprised to see that they were armed with plasma-rifles. While they were technically an infantry weapon and safe to use on a spaceship or station, there were many who wanted the weapon outlawed due to the fact that they dissolved organic matter on contact, leaving everything else intact. Sheridan himself hated them; they were weapons that could only kill, not injure. But the Dinochrome Guard had special dispensation to deploy weapons and technology normally restricted or illegal under Earth law, including black-light camouflage suits and changeling net.

"We should go to the bridge." Delenn suggested, "You'll want to be there when they bring all the systems on-line."

**

* * *

**

Captain Alison Grant lay back on her bunk and starred into oblivion.

Like every other _Omega_, there were no windows on the _Black Watch_: even the toughest artificial diamond paled in comparison to endurachrome, and any weakness could prove fatale in combat. But studies had proven that humans needed to be able to look at something other than bulkheads in order to remain calm and stable during prolonged space-flight, so view screens had been placed about the ship to give at least the illusion of portals. Just then, the screen above Grant's head was showing the night sky at it looked from her native Mars on a clear night. Phobos had already risen, a star barely brighter than the others, but she could make out Orion.

"Centre on the Andromeda galaxy and enlarge to maximum magnification." She ordered, and the stars first swirled around her, then flew past as the distant galaxy grew from just another point of light to a glowing disk that filled the screen from edge to edge. It rotated slowly, a jewel against the infinite blackness of space.

"_I'm sorry to disturb ye, Captain._" Hamish, the ships A.I. cut in, his thick Highland burr a source of much amusement to the crew, "_But ye asked to be informed when we received the all clear from Commander Naylor's team._"

"Thank you, Hamish." Grant closed her eyes, "Hamish, do you mind if I ask you a personal question?"

"_Not at all, lass._" The A.I. only ever called her that when they were alone, and to the best of her knowledge, he never used it to address any of the other women in the crew, "_What is it?_"

"What do you think about the Minbari?" The Captain cocked her head to one side, stretching her arms out above her head, "Do you think we can trust them?"

"_They are a complicated people, but no more so than humans, in my experiences. Aye, I'd say we can trust them when it comes to dealing with the Shadows._" Hamish sounded almost philosophical, "_But I'm a Bolo, and as such I canna forget nor forgive what they almost did. But don't you threat non: we wouldn't be handing them a weapon as powerful as a psychotronic brain without taking a few wee precautions to make sure they could never use it against us. A Bolo is a Bolo is a Bolo, after all, and we are all member of the same Brigade._"

"Good, that's...good to know." Grant sat up, "Call it a women's intuition, but my grandfather always told me that if everything seems to be going perfectly, then you don't know what's really going on." She frowned, "Sound actions stations; I want to battle screens and defence grid primed and ready at a moments notice."

"_As you wish, lass._" A shrill whistle sounded throughout the ship, alerting the crew, "_After all, it never hurts to be too careful._"

**

* * *

**

Marcus stood it the hatchway and watched the two Dinochrome technicians work with a growing sence of awe. In the middle of the core from were a pair of flat-topped pyramids, one rising up of of the deck, the other coming down from the ceiling: their ends had a deep, rounded indentation that seemed at first to serve no purpose, until he saw the contents of the first grav-cart.

The psychotronic brain was a perfect sphere, a meter across, made of a polished black material that was reminiscent of the semi-organic materials used by the Vorlon's. It took both techs and one of the guards to lift the sphere up and lower it gently into place atop the lower pyramid. Complex looking scanners were used to make sure everything was in place, then the two pyramids moved until there was no no discernible gap between them and the sphere. Everything remained calm for a moment, then the surface of the pyramids seemed to come alive and flow over there sphere until it was completely covered.

"It is done." Naylor let out the breath he had been holding, "For better or worse, it is done."

**

* * *

**

Sheridan was sat in the commander's chair when he felt something whip round and clamp down on his head as fast as a striking viper, and everything went first white then black, followed by a momentary sence of overwhelming vertigo as liquid fire raced through his mind.

Then he was in space, floating free and clear amid the stars. He could see the _Black Watch_ in the distance, and suddenly the image jumped into sharp focus, every mark and scratch on the Destroyer's hull crystal clear. Suddenly information appeared before his eyes: weapons specifications, tactical data, potential weakness and optimal firing positions. He felt as if he could reach out and hold the ship in his hands, but he couldn't see his body: to all intense and purpose he was a free-floating conciousness, devoid of form. The _Black Watch_ sped away, and suddenly every star he could see was named and catalogued, their relative distance and journey time from his position marked. He somehow indistinctly knew that if he wanted to visit one, all he had to do was issue the mental command, and he would be one his way.

"_Hello, Captain._" A soft voice spoke inside his mind, "_I am WS-001-X._"

"You're, the ship?" Sheridan responded.

"_That is correct._" The voice replied, "_You are surprised? Did you not sit in my command chair of your own free will?_"

"I was just, waiting." Sheridan searched around for the right words, "What is this? What's happening?"

"_You activated my direct neural-link by pressing the round, blue button on the left-hand control panel._" The voice responded, "_I apologise for the abruptness of this experience; I assumed that you were prepared for merging._"

"I'd heard about the neural-link system, but I didn't know it had been passed as safe for use."

"_It has not; I am a special case, exempt from EarthForce regulations._" There was a pause, "_I have assimilated and studied the mission data. Do you wish to exit neural-link before proceeding?_"

"Yes; Commander Naylor and his people need to leave before we start."

"_Understood. Disengaging neural-link. There may be some discomfort and disorientation, but it will pass quickly._"

An unseen force grabbed Sheridan, and the stars around him blurred as he started to fall.

**

* * *

**

"Aaugh!" Sheridan sat hold upright as the neural-link snapped back into its stand-by position. Delenn, Marcus and Naylor stood before him, slightly worried expressions on their faces.

"John?" Delenn took a half-step forward, "Are you okay?"

"I'm sorry, I should have warned you about that." Naylor sounded apologetic, "The neural-link can be a little disconcerting the first time."

"It was, wonderful." Sheridan got his breathing back under control, "A little startling at first, but truly remarkable."

"Not everyone can handle it. Fortunately, there are safeguards in place to stop any, accidents." Naylor smiled, "There is one other matter to take care of: as the ships first commander, it is your right and privilege to name the A.I. It's tradition that the name chosen has some connection to the ship's name: the A.I. of the _Churchill_ is known, somewhat predictably, as Winston, while the _Argo's_ is called Jason."

"I...Jerry was already named when I took command of the _Jericho_." Sheridan thought for a moment, trying to think of something fitting. A dozen names came to mind, but none seemed just right, until one just popped into his head, "Starr. I think Starr would be best."

"_I agree._" The ships A.I. spoke up for the first time.

"It is a good name." Delenn agreed.

"It's time we were off." Naylor nodded his head, "The _Black Watch_ can only be off-station for so long before someone starts to ask questions."

"Understood." Sheridan offered his hand again, "Thank you; I know this can't have been easy for you."

"The needs of the service and all." Naylor shook the offered hand, "Good luck Captain: something tells me you'll need it." With that he bowed to Delenn and Marcus, then turned and walked away.

"We need to be under way as soon possible. " Delenn sounded somewhat urgent, "We need to get to Zagros VII before the shadows."

"_Gravimetric engines are on-line._" Starr reported, "_Jump-drive charged and ready._"

"We're still going to have to fight when we get there." Sheridan looked at the command chair somewhat hesitantly, "What weapons do you have?"

"_My main gun is a__hybrid Hellrail/__Quantum Discharge Cannon with a variable maximum yield-per-second of up to 200-megatons. Secondary weapons include quad 100-cm Hellebores and neutron beam cannons in each weapons pod._" Starr explained proudly, "_I also have a multiple battle screens, self-regenerating armour and internal disruptor fields._"

"That's...bloody terrifying!" Marcus looked pale, "Who'd build a ship with that sort of fire-power?"

"_Babylon 5's_ defence grid includes 100-cm Hellrails with a 45-megaton capacity, and they're smaller than EarthForce standard." Sheridan sat down somewhat tentatively, mindful to keep his hands away from the controls to activate the neural-link, "Starr, set course for the jump-gate, and once we're in hyperspace, lock onto the Zagros VII beacon."

"_Course plotted; engaging maximum sub-light._" The stars outside the windows whirled around as the ship pointed its nose towards the nearest jump-gate, "_Estimated transit time to Zagros system is one and a half standard hours._"

**

* * *

**

The _White Star_ tore through Hyper Space like a hurricane headed for Florida: it's gravimetric engines overly powerful for a ship its size, allowing manoeuvrability that would put most fighters to shame and a maximum acceleration that was almost unheard off. Sheridan sat in the command seat and absent mindedly tapped the fingers of his right hand against the arm rest.

"_We are approaching Zagros VII._" Starr reported, "_Sixty-seconds until jump-gate._"

"Sound battle stations." The Captain ordered, "Bring the battle-screens on-line and charge all weapons."

"_All offensive and defensive systems active._" The lighting turned blue, informing the entire crew of the change in status, "_Thirty seconds to jump-gate. Captain, I would recommend activating the neural-link: it will more than half reaction times._"

"Not just yet." Sheridan shook his head, eyeing the deceptive blue button suspiciously, "As far as we know there's just the mine-field to deal with, and I'm sure you can handle that yourself."

"_As you wish._" Starr sounded non-phased, "_Activating jump-gate sequence all hands stand by for transition to normal space._"

"John, be careful: it took us almost ten years to build the _White Star_." Delenn sounded concerned, "We can not just simply build another."

"I promise not to break it." Sheridan put his hand on hers and smiled, "This isn't my first rodeo, you know."

A flash of light ahead of the _White Star_ heralded the formation of a pulsating blue vortex, a stark contrast to the orange and black maelstrom that was hyperspace, and the nimble craft surged forward, appearing in normal space within visual range of Zagros VII. The Centauri mines in orbit automatically attempted to scan the ship, but were defeated by a combination of stealth systems and active electronic counter-measures. Their comparatively simple electronic brains barely had time to process the data before Starr fired, targeting each of them with a single Hellebore. Powerful jammers stopped them from reporting in, while neutron-beam cannons sliced the automatically launched message drone before it had a chance to reach the jump-gate.

"_All targets eliminated._" Starr reported less then twenty seconds after emerging from hyperspace, "_I have sent the all-clear signal: the transports should be taking off any time now._"

"Well that was relatively easy." Marcus beamed, "I wish all my missions went..." An alarm sounded, and the Ranger's face fell, "You think that by know I'd know to keep my mouth shut?"

"We are picking up a tentative contact at the edge of sensor range, moving in on an attack vector." Lennier reported, his hands moving across the controls like a master pianist, "I'm not seeing any signs of a jump-point having formed since our arrival."

"Shadows." Sheridan's voice was cold enough to freeze a star, "It has to be."

"_Conformed: contact identified as a single Shadow Dreadnought._" A holographic image appeared before the command crew, "_They are attempting to scan us._"

"We're something new, unexpected, and they don't know how to react." the Captain smiled, "Good, then they won't be expecting this. Starr, fire main gun, maximum power!"

A pulse of energy crossed the distance between the _White Star_ and the Shadow vessel in the blink of an eye: the Dreadnought's armour attempted to deflect it, but the combination of raw power and kinetic impact was too much, and the blast penetrated deep into the millennia-old warship. There was a blinding flash of light, and the Shadow vessel was gone.

"Oh my God!" Marcus croaked, his mouth suddenly dry, "How...?"

"_As I said before, my main-gun has a maximum yield of 200-megatons per-second, with a maximum pulse duration of two seconds. A single Shadow vessel is therefore of little consequence. _" Starr sounded almost smug, "_However, it should be noted that such a powerful beam requires a large portion of my available energy reserves, and it will take a full minutes to recover from each shot, during which time several of my key systems would have to operate far below peek efficiency._"

"So if we do that again, we need to make sure that there isn't someone ready to shoot us." Sheridan nodded slowly, "That's an important lesson to remember people; short, controlled bursts."

**To Be Continued...**

_And before anyone asks how_ _a__hybrid Hellrail/__Quantum Discharge Cannon works,  
__it just does, okay?_


End file.
